


wilted sunflowers (and those who pick them)

by Anonymous



Category: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018)
Genre: As in Miles is kinda like ‘what the fuck’ but then goes ‘eh fuck it might as well’, Dubious Consent, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Jeff just wants to get closer to Miles, Jeff may have also been cucked, M/M, Molestation, Sick Fic, Uncle Aaron is around in spirit :), or cheated on, whichever is spicer to you honestly ;)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:40:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22180447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Miles is stuck at home sick from a Spider-Man injury. But it’s alright because Jeff is there to make things better (in more ways than one).
Relationships: Aaron Davis/Miles Morales, Jefferson Davis/Miles Morales
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70
Collections: Anonymous





	wilted sunflowers (and those who pick them)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smutgusher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutgusher/gifts).



As a kid, Miles wanted nothing but to be a hero.

Every Saturday morning, he’d get up and make his bowl of Froot Loops just in time to catch his favorite super hero cartoon. Little Miles would messily eat his breakfast, milk dripping down his chin, as he saw heroes his own age do all sorts of amazing things. They did flips and kicks and had cool powers! Like spitting acid, having skin that can turn rock solid, making explosions with their bare hands! They might’ve been Miles’ age but they weren’t boring. They were spectacular and Miles couldn’t help but want to be like them.

But now? Being 14-years-old and getting a hang of this Spider-Man gig? Miles hates it.

Absolutely fucking hates it.

Because while he does have cool powers, he has to deal with old and bitter boomers trying to fucking kill him at every opportunity. Miles’ villains weren’t like the cartoon villains. They weren’t bumbling and stupid. They were efficient and deadly and more than capable of creating something to bring Miles down. Like _(hypothetically)_ a super rare chemical bullet that even Miles’ healing can’t handle. That _(hypothetically)_ had him woozy in class and speaking in tongues. That _(hypothetically)_ made his world spin in all sorts of shapes and colors before passing out on his way to class.

Which _(hypothetically)_ lead to the nurse calling his parents. And being sent home. And dealing with their questions.

Like he said, no cartoony villains in this timeline.

“He’s....so long....hospital?”

“....-ell us nothing different.....fever....watch him.”

Miles groaned, pulling the blankets over his head as he picked up his parents’ voices. Super hearing was double edged blade and Miles was too damn tired to deal with it. The bullet had graced him _(thank god)_ and Ganke had told him he was lucky he wasn’t puking out his organs. Which, fair, but dealing with a high fever was pretty shitty too. Especially when his parents were kinda set on babying him.

_(It’s been like that for a while. Ever since Uncle Aaron-)_

Miles bit the inside of his cheek harshly, whining at the pain but unwilling to let that thought continue.

“Miles? Que te pasa?”

His bedroom door opened and he felt a gentle hand pry the blanket away from his face. “Miles?”

Miles let out a strange gurgle, trying to convey “Yes, I’m still breathing but I don’t think that qualifies as being okay”. He heard a quiet sigh and that gentle hand ran its fingers through his hair. Miles hummed quietly, eyes still closed and drifting in and out of consciousness. _(He could almost pretend they were his hands touching him instead-)_

“I really think I should stay, Jeff.”

“No, you can’t miss work. I’ve got this covered Rio, trust me.”

Miles didn’t hear the rest of the conversation between his parents. Instead he began getting lost in old memories that lulled him into a deep slumber.

* * *

When Miles woke up again, there were no hands in his hair. There was drool smeared all over his cheek and down his neck, however. Miles groaned in disgust, rolling onto his side and _(with great effort mind you)_ raised his hand to wipe away the mess. “Mom? Dad?” Miles called out, wincing at how his voice strained. Shit, he’d probably have to take those nasty cough drops.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway and soon Miles’ door was cracked open. “Still with the land of the living?” An amused voice asked.

If Miles had it in him, he would’ve rolled his eyes. “Apparently,” he replied, shuffling around to try and get his body upright. His dad came forward then, calloused hands reaching and helping him sit right. Miles bit his lips, something sharp and quick stabbing him in his gut.

_“Miles? What’s wrong?”_

_“I-I scrapped my knee,” an embarrassingly wobbly and teary voice replied._

_Calloused hands pried his tinier ones away from his knee._

_“Aw, don’t worry little man. Uncle Aaron’ll take care of you. We can even get ice cream when I’m done.”_

_“Really?!”_

_“Really.”_

“Miles?”

“Hm?” Miles hummed, eyes moving lazily to glance at his father. He didn’t like looking him in the face sometimes. _(He’s there if he looks hard enough.)_

“Are you okay?” Jeff asked, his concern audible. For once it didn’t get on Miles’ nerves. “I dunno. ‘M sweaty,” Miles whined, eyes slipping shut. Jeff shook him gently, causing him to groan. “C’mon, let’s get you in the shower. It’ll help with your fever too,” Jeff suggested, causing Miles to groan at the idea of moving.

“Do I have to?”

“Unless you wanna sleep in a puddle of your own sweat and drool, yes.”

Miles began to pout before he caught himself. “Okay,” Miles grumbled, body tensing in preparation to stand up when Jeff suddenly just....lifted him.

Miles scrambled out of pure surprise, gaining a chuckle from his father. “Haven’t held you like this in a while,” he said, his tone slightly....wistful?

“Not a baby,” Miles groused, mind too fogged to try and understand his father’s moods. He laid his head on his dad’s shoulder, though. He literally could not get his body to do anything but relax if he tried.

“ _You’re_ _my_ _baby_ _boy_ , _aren’t_ _you?_ ”

Miles bit the inside of his cheek, drawing blood. Shut up shut up shut up-

The sound of water interrupted his intrusive thoughts, causing Miles’ head to lift from its perch on Jeff’s shoulder.

“No shower?”

“Nah, I figured you pretty much collapse if I tried making you stand up,” Jeff said, sitting Miles down on the counter of the sink. His began tugging on the hem of Miles’ shirt, intent on helping Miles undress. His calloused fingers caused goosebumps to appear along his dark skin. Miles bit his lip, face feeling warm all of a sudden. Well, warmer. “‘M not a baby,” Miles hissed, slapping Jeff’s hands away. The sentence sound much more vicious than it had the first time. Jeff wilted a bit, clearly hurt. Miles winced.

“Sorry. Just tired,” he mumbled, looking away. Jeff shifted awkwardly before clearing his throat. “Let’s just get you in the tub. You can get yourself out of your clothes right?” Jeff asked. Miles was nodding before the question was even finished. It was a blatant lie, of course, but it didn’t feel right to ask for help after being such an asshole. Which resulted in Miles taking an embarrassing ten minutes trying to get out of his pajamas. But Jeff didn’t interfere, simply busying himself with the bath water.

After a few tense moments of silence and Jeff helping Miles into the tub, Miles opened his mouth before his brain could even comprehend what the hell he was planing on even saying.

”Can you, um,” Miles cut off, suddenly embarrassed and biting his lip again. Jeff arched a brow at him. Well, he couldn’t back out now.

”C-can you wash my back? I-I can’t reach it.”

It was a lie and a truth all at once. On a normal day, Miles could’ve managed it. But with this fever and the ache in his bones, he knew it would be a struggle to just wash his arms.

Plus, his dad was going through a nesting thing he supposed. His mom had said that things had been rough lately and humor him sometimes rather than getting offended. 

And it worked. His dad actually perked up a bit and smiled at him. Jeff grabbed the wash cloth and a bar a soap, humming quietly as he focused on his task. Miles tried not to feel too awkward about the situation. He was kinda failing at it, but oh well.

_”Your skin is really soft, kid. Just like your mom’s.”_

_Little Miles wrinkled his nose, pausing in his splashing to turn and look at Aaron. “I’m not a girl!” He squeaked, affronted. Aaron chuckled, wrapping his arms around Miles’ tiny torso as he pulled wet Miles’ body against his own slick skin. “Meant it as a compliment,” he purred. Before Miles could reply, Aaron was adding more bubbles to the bath, effectively distracting him._

_It wasn’t until years later that he finally questioned how exactly Aaron knew his mom’s skin was soft._

Miles clenched his fist, shaking his head roughly. This is why he hated getting sick, his mind just went out all over the place and-

Miles jumped, a strangled shout leaving his throat as his dad's hands...traveled _lower._ "What are you doing?" he shrieked, knees drawn up to his chest as he moved away from his father's hands. Jeff blinked, as if was startled himself, and scoffed. "Boy, I've been washing that ass of yours since you came out the womb."

"I said wash my back not my b-butt!"

Jeff laughed, amused, and Miles pouted. He snatched the wash cloth from his dad's hands, grumbling. "I can was myself! Go away!" he hissed, face warm and red. Jeff raised his hands in mock surrender before exiting the bathroom. 

"Make sure to scream if you need anything!"

"Whatever!"

Miles scrubbed aggressively at his skin, trying hard not to remember how Uncle Aaron's hands would wander sometimes.

* * *

After that whole embarrassing debacle, Miles was able to dress without much issue. His das perked up when he came out of his room. He was dressed as causally as Miles for once with worn sweatpants and a plain t-shirt. "Nice shirt," Jeff said suddenly. Miles furrowed his brow in confusion before looking down at what he was wearing. A lump formed in his throat. It was the old Tupac shirt Uncle Aaron held let him keep. 

_"You wear it more than I do, might as well have it."_

Miles swallowed. "Uncle Aaron gave it to me." He suddenly felt small again like that time he fell off his bike as a kid. A dull ache throbbed in his chest, always there and always mocking. 

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Silence followed after. Jeff sighed, looking tired for a moment, before reaching out towards Miles. "Watch some TV with your old man? We can eat and get some medicine in you after."

Miles managed a small smile at that. "Sure."

Did he feel a bit ridiculous curled up against his father at this age? Yes, he sure as hell did but Miles didn't have it in him to be indignant at that moment. Jeff channel hopped for a while, knowing Miles could honestly care less at what they watched. He finally settled on a program when he heard a familiar theme song. 

“You used to like this show, remember?”

”Mhm,” Miles grumbled, too tired to even reply. What happened next was kind of a blur. Miles dozed off and on for a while, the sounds coming from the television waking him up sometimes. But when he opened his eyes again, the living room was silent. Miles stared uncomprehendingly at the TV before he finally noticed hands tugging on the elastic band of his pajamas.

“Dad?” Miles croaked, suddenly feeling cold. “What are you doing?”

Jeff was silent for a moment. Miles was about to prompt him again when he finally spoke. ”I just miss you so much...”

Miles let out a jumbled whine as his father’s hands found its way down his pants. Miles panted, squirming, but Jeff kept him pressed against his side as his hand moved against his rapidly hardening cock.

Miles knew he should’ve been horrified. He should’ve been trying to get away from his father’s hands and rushing to call his mother. He should’ve felt disgusted. He should’ve felt betrayed.

But he didn’t.

All he could think about was....Uncle Aaron. Uncle Aaron who only touched him like this sometimes when he begged hard enough. Uncle Aaron who’s touch was so soft Miles could hardly tell he was touching hm. Uncle Aaron who always kissed him so passionately and sweetly and so much good in him-

Miles gasped, body arching as his dad’s hands became rougher, more frantic. “Ngh,” he gasped, mouth trying to form words but failing. Jeff’s hands snakes under the oversized shirt he leant him and began toying with his nipples, causing Miles to let out a shrill moan. “That’s my good boy, you’re such a good kid Miles,” Jeff said, his voice deep and warm next to Miles’ ear. Miles whimpered, legs twisting and shifting restlessly as his body was pushed further and further to release. Miles screwed his eyes shut, throat dry and chest aching.

_“Quit teasing me, Uncle Aaron!”_

_An amused chuckle. “My bad. You can handle it right? My big boy.”_

“Such a big boy, Miles, you feel so good.”

Tears slipped down Miles’ cheek. Fuck.

_“I love-“_

“-you Miles-“

_“You look so good under me. Just-“_

“-wait. Can’t wait to see what you feel like-“

_“You’re so tight, fuck-“_

Something in Miles snapped, causing him to cry our hoarsely as he came. Cum splattered messily over his dad’s hand and over his stomach, adding to mess of sensations and emotions his body was already trying to process. For a moment, everything was still. Heavy pants filled the living room as both Jeff and Miles came down from their respective highs. Miles wondered idly if Jeff came just from touching him like this. Uncle Aaron used to get so riled up from just seeing him cum....

“I guess we have to get you in the shower again, huh?” Jeff said, voice low and strange. Almost regretful. Mentally, Miles rolled his eyes. (Uncle Aaron used to get the same way. He wasn’t gonna deal with the whole moral purity bullshit-)

“We could share,” Miles suggested quietly, ignoring the rational part of him. Right now, the part of him that craved Uncle Aaron was calling the shots and Miles didn’t have it in him to say otherwise. Vague thoughts about manipulation and grief hit him, all random bullshit he’s read from one place or another or from Ganke.

_I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care I just want to feel for fucking once and be held-_

“Okay,” Jeff said after a moment. Miles’ thoughts tapered off as he felt himself smile genuinely for the first time in a while.

“Thanks Dad,” Miles murmured, leaning into Jeff’s chest for warmth as the arms around him tightened.

_“I love you, Miles.”_

_“I love you too, Uncle Aaron.”_


End file.
